


Really Cool Secret Agents

by hannahsmetana



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: AU, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, F/M, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-27
Updated: 2013-03-27
Packaged: 2017-12-06 15:37:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/737321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannahsmetana/pseuds/hannahsmetana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They have their mission. Infiltrate. Locate. Retrieve. Can a crack team of Really Cool Secret Agents accomplish the task? They love it when a plan comes... reasonably close to actually working.</p><p>For a prompt by portions_forfox on the ficathon on livejournal: </p><p>jeff/britta + study group | SPIES AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Really Cool Secret Agents

**Author's Note:**

  * For [portionsforfoxes](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=portionsforfoxes).



> I couldn't ignore the prompt. This is fairly silly. As you may expect.

“Alpha-Charlie, this is Delta-Foxtrot. Greendale perimeter is secure. Over”

“Acknowledge that, Delta-Foxtrot. Alpha-Charlie Out.”

The second the crackle of static became silent the two patrol guards were felled with a quiet “Oof.”

“Raider, I am in position.”

“Copy that, Snow. Disco Spider, Snow White is in. You are clear to go.”

“Copy that, Raider.”

Snow White watched as a grappling hook snaked into the the branches of the tree next to her, then with a ‘zip’ Disco Spider landed lightly next to her.

“Ok, watch my back while I get this grate off. Once we’re in it shouldn't take long to get the cooling system offline.”

**********************************

Big Cheddar made a final check that the coast was clear before opening the crate. Dragon Turtle neatly unfolded herself from the tight confines and stretched before turning to Cheddar, who was squinting at her attire.

“I still don’t get why you and An- I mean Snow - get to wear sexy catsuits and I’m dressed like a French pastry chef. If I didn’t know better I’d think it’s because you all have a preconceived image of me...”

“Shirley!” hissed Dragon Turtle, “I mean Cheddar! Your cover _is_ a pastry chef! People might get a little suspicious if you turned up in a black leather catsuit! Anyway, you need to get up there and keep the mark busy while I look for the Money Maker and Snow and Spider get the package.”

“Alright! But next time someone else can do the cooking...” grumbled Big Cheddar as she moved down the corridor, pushing an ornate trolley of fancy pastries.

“Radar, I’m in. Commencing search for the Money Maker.”

“Roger that, Dragon Turtle. And it’s _Raider_ , not Radar. We’re trying to avoid copyright infringement. We already got stung with the theme tune.”

“I _told_ you not to let Pudgy Bear write it...”

*******************************

In a clearing in the woodland surrounding the Greendale Estate, a van buzzed with the sound of gentle snoring.

*******************************

In another wing of the huge complex, Disco Spider lifted the vent carefully and peered cautiously out of the air duct. He nodded to Snow White, who stealthily dropped to the floor below and scanned for hostiles.

“Clear,” she whispered into her headset, moving slightly to the side to allow Disco Spider to drop down beside her. As he did so an ominous click alerted the pair of them to company. 

“Well, what have we got here?” asked the smug-looking guard with curiously stellar facial hair pointing a gun at them. He was still grinning as Snow White’s exceptionally practical boot smashed into his chin and he keeled over backwards, his eyes rolling up into his head.

“You know, when you say “clear” you’re meant to actually make sure the coast _is_ clear,” Disco Spider said, pointedly.

“He was lurking. Like some creepy lurker. Probably just waiting for scantily clad women to drop from the sky. Weirdo. Anyway, I neutralised the threat. Now come on, we need to find the package.”

*******************************

Dragon Turtle crept down the stairs to the lowest level of the complex. Scouting cautiously, she spotted two armed guards outside a heavy door. That had to be where they were keeping the Money Maker.

Ruffling her hair and unzipping her catsuit slightly, Dragon Turtle staggered around the corner.

“Ohhhhh, heeeeyyyyy fellas. I’m shoooooo glad I found you. I’m s’posed to be at the party, but I lost my way back from the ickle girls room.”

“Ma’am, you can’t be here,” started one of the guards, as Britta tottered unsteadily towards him. Seconds later both he and his colleague were on the floor with a pointed toe print blooming nicely on the sides of their faces.

“Too easy.”

Drawing back the locks on the door, she cautiously moved into the room behind the door. It was poorly lit, except for a bright light shining onto the occupant; a figure chained foot and wrist between two posts, head slumped onto their chest.

“Money Maker!” gasped Dragon Turtle, rushing to the man and cupping his cheek gently with her hand, willing him to be alive. She took in his torn clothing and scruffy appearance, biting her lip apprehensively.

“Britta?” he asked, raising his head slowly. He squinted against the harsh light shining in his eyes. She could see bruises on his cheek, marring his otherwise handsome - if not slightly pointy - face.

“Shhhh, it’s me. I’m here.”

“Well _duh_! Now, do you wanna let me out of here? You did pick up the keys from the guard, right?”

“How would I know to do that? It’s not like I’m psychic. Jeez, Winger!”

Dragon Turtle turned back to retrieve the keys with a huff, but as she stalked towards the door she tripped over a lump on the floor. Both she and the lump yelped as she cannoned into the door, slamming it closed with a resounding clang. The sound was barely audible over the high pitched wailing emanating from the floor lump.

“Oh great! Now you’ve set him off again. And locked us in. I swear, Dragon Turtle, only _you_ could Britta a rescue operation this badly. You’re the worst,” complained Money Maker.

Dragon Turtle glared at Money Maker before moving to the lump and pulling it gently into the spotlight to figure out what it was. It turned out to be a he. A small, bald, bespectacled he, wearing only grubby pair of boxers and a t-shirt. A long chain snaked from his ankle to the wall behind him.

“Meet my cell mate. His name’s Craig Pelton and he’s supposed to be in charge of this facility. Until El Tigre overthrew him for his own nefarious deeds.”

“Craig? It’s ok. My name is Britta. I’m here to rescue you,” she said, hesitantly patting the wailing man.

“Yeah, great job so far,” snarked Money Maker.

“You’re not helping!”

“Well I _would_ , but _someone_ didn’t think to bring the keys.” 

“Are, are you really here to rescue us?” sniffed the small man. “Oh thank God. Because I’ve been down here for so _long_ , and I was so _lonely_ , and then they brought Money Maker in, and I thought that I’d have someone to _hold_ me again, but then they chained him over _there_ , and I’m stuck over _here_ , and, and...” he broke down into tears. Which was probably just as well as his voice had been steadily rising in pitch until Dragon Turtle was forced to hold her ears, while Money Maker could only wince.

Dragon Turtle hugged the little man awkwardly, patting him on top of his bald head. At that minute she was interrupted by a crackle of static in her ear bud.

“Dragon Turtle! Do you copy? Have you located the Money Maker?”

“Raider! Um, I have located Money Maker, and another captive.”

“But...?”

“But what? But nothing!”

“Dragon Turtle, in every good plan there is always something that goes wrong. If everything went exactly as planned, TV would be really boring. And in every one of our plans, the element that goes wrong is inevitably something to do with you. So, I am assuming, based entirely on past observations and in no part prejudice, that something has gone wrong. The sooner you tell me what it is, the sooner I can improvise a new strategy that neatly ties up all the loose ends and gets us home. Or at least to a hilarious cliffhanger.”

“Fine! We’re locked in the dungeon. I knocked out the guards but they still have the keys to Money Maker’s restraints and they are on the other side of the door to us. And they’ll probably wake up soon.”

“Ok. Wait there. Raider out.”

“Wait here? Abed? ABED?”

**************************

“Big Cheddar, do you copy?”

“Hmm-hmm,” breathed Big Cheddar, standing at the back of the ballroom next to her tray of pastries. In front of her, a lavish party was taking place for the birthday of El Tigre.

“We have a situation. Dragon Turtle and the Money Maker are compromised. Are you able to extract yourself?”

“Hmm-hmm.”

Big Cheddar looked around quickly, before making her way to the curly-haired guard with the enormous forehead at the door.

“Psssst! I need to get the surprise cake,” she whispered to the sentry.

“I don’t know about any cake,” replied the gawkish man.

“Of course you don’t! It’s a surprise cake! El Tigre can’t give you instructions for his own surprise, you damned fool! No offense.”

“None taken. Alright. Go and get the cake.”

“Raider, I’m clear. But that guard is gonna get suspicious when no cake shows up. Tell Disco Spider and Snow White to move their asses and find that package.”

*************************

“Got it!”

“Whoa! What is _that_? It’s awesome. Like a piano you play like a banjo. I’m gonna call it a pianjo.”

“Raider, we have the package. With this we can access El Tigre’s secret vault in City College Bank. We’ll meet at the RZ in fifteen minutes.”

“Negative, Snow. We need to prioritize extraction. Big Cheddar and Dragon Turtle are likely to be coming out hot. Get to the perimeter a-sap and be ready to provide cover.”

“Roger that. You heard the man; let’s get our groove on, Disco Spider!”

************************

“There you are, you bitch. Didn’t get very far into your rescue operation, did you? I’ve seen some hopeless spies, but you are the _worst_.”

Dragon Turtle backed away, arms raised, as the two angry guards hustled into the room, guns drawn. They flanked her, snarling viciously, until she could retreat no further as she trod heavily on Money Maker’s foot.

“Ow! You _are_ the worst!” grunted Money Maker.

“Shut up, Jeff!” hissed Dragon Turtle, squinting to make out the approaching guards against the glare of the spotlight.

“Oh, _Jeff_ is it? Funny, we’ve been trying to get him to talk for ages and he wouldn’t say a thing. And then you drop by and now we have a name! Maybe now we have you too, he’ll be a bit more forthcoming with his information...You can provide... _Leverage_. Ha-ha-(bonk) _uff_.”

Bonk, “Oof.”

Money Maker and Dragon Turtle, arms still raised, squinted at the sound of footsteps, then jingling, before Big Cheddar stepped into the light, brandishing a rolling pin and a set of keys. Craig screamed.

“It’s alright!” gasped Dragon Turtle. “She’s with us!”

************************

The main doors of the complex flew open with a bang. Money Maker shuffled out backwards whilst firing wildly, leaning his weight on Craig, who had his arms wrapped around the tall man’s waist with a rapturous grin on his face. Dragon Turtle rolled through the door as bullets whistled back and forth before agilely flipping onto her feet, drawing two handguns from her bra and adding to the crossfire. 

Finally Big Cheddar emerged, arms and legs pumping like, well, pumps. She took a graceful leap down the stairs, rolling herself into a ball at the last minute before popping up to provide covering fire for Money Maker and Craig to turn and hobble down the stairs. However, the guards were almost to the door. Dragon Turtle was in danger of being overwhelmed when a piercing cry rent the night.

“Yippee-kye-ay mother lovers!” cried Disco Spider before firing a series of smoke grenades from a ridiculously over-sized launcher. Snow White ran to help Big Cheddar up from her crouched position, muttering, “We are _so_ getting sued,” while Dragon Turtle ducked her head and rolled down the steps to where Craig and Money Maker were still struggling. She sprang up and threw her arms around Money Maker from the other side to Craig, and between them they dragged him down the steps and into the cover of the woodland.

The rest of the team drew back behind them, peppering the path with cover fire. Raider joined them from the flank, having shimmied down from his vantage point as the firefight began. Together they quickly retreated to the clearing which contained the van. They bundled into the rear doors, except Disco Spider and Snow White, who ran to the passenger door and leapt in, screaming “Go, go, go!”

Pudgy Bear awoke with a jolt. “What? Who the?”

“Pierce! Drive!”

***********************

Back in their top secret HQ, the team gathered around the square table in Debriefing Room F. (There was only one other debriefing room - L.) Money Maker sat at the head of the table, though at an angle to accommodate his right foot, which was encased in a cast. His face was spectacularly bruised down one side, and he was sporting two black eyes to go with his bandaged nose. Under his shirt, more bandages peeked out from his rib cage.

“Oh Jeff, they really did a number on you, huh?” said Snow White sympathetically from his left. Dragon Turtle squirmed uncomfortably in the seat opposite Snow, accidentally knocking Money Maker’s cast and causing him to gasp and grimace.

“Son-of-a... Yeah, actually Annie, there’s a funny story there,” said Money Maker, a little unevenly. He glanced at Dragon Turtle, who opened her eyes beseechingly at him. He held her gaze for a moment and then sighed, lowering his eyes to the table. “Actually, no it’s not. Not even a bit funny. So, where’s Craig? I thought he’d never let go of me. I swear, these cracked ribs are his work.”

“We sedated him so we could fix you up. After you passed out in the van he really wouldn’t let go of you,” explained Snow White.

“That little man is crazy-town banana-pants,” commented Big Cheddar. “I watched him sleeping. He keeps muttering about Disney films. Dalmatians and princesses and such like.”

“Well, being locked up by a crazy Spanish Chinaman would send anyone mad,” asserted Pudgy Bear. “Just like being left in the van would send anyone to sleep. I still don’t get why you guys didn’t use my plan. I make an excellent swami.”

“Pierce! You can’t be a swami in _every_ plan! Most people don’t even know what a swami is! Not me. But most people,” objected Disco Spider. “Besides, the plan worked. We got the pianjo and we rescued Jeff, and we bonus rescued Craig. So I think we can now safely call ourselves Team Super Awesome.” He exchanged a complex high five/chest slap with Raider.

“Speaking of name changes, Jeff, you might want to use a new moniker these days. The Money Maker is looking a little rough. It might fare better if you drew less attention to it. I’ve been working up a list. Here, review it in your own time,” said Raider, before leaving the room. Disco Spider and Snow White followed him, while Pudgy Bear and Big Cheddar exited via the other door. Only Dragon Turtle remained.

“Marrrrrr? Brutalitops? _Bing Bong_? Abed really is bad at making up names. Should have guessed when he called the company, “Really Cool Secret Agents”. At least Troy was able to talk him round. Team Super Awesome isn't exactly great but...” he stopped to look up at Dragon Turtle, finally noticing her stillness. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Jeff, I nearly got you killed. I broke your foot while attempting to rescue you and then broke your nose trying to kiss you in the van!”

“Look, the nose was entirely Pierce’s fault. I’ve told you guys before that he’s the worst getaway driver. You couldn’t have predicted that he would hit the only tree in the clearing. And you _were_ being threatened with a gun when you trod on my foot. It could have happened to anyone.”

“But it didn’t, it happened to _me_ because _I’m_ the worst! Face it, Jeff; the only reason you were in that situation was because of me. If I hadn’t slammed your face in the door the first time around, we would have both gotten away with the pianjo-”

“Keytar,” Jeff cut in.

“Whatever. You only got caught because of me. And then they _tortured_ you...”

“Not really.”

“What? Craig said they hurt you.”

“Nah, they didn’t get very far because they couldn’t stand his howling. They only got around to using the nipple clamps, so it was no biggy. Luckily they thought I was groaning in pain.”

“Oh, thank God!”

“Yeah, tell me about it. Can you _imagine_ the crap I’d have to put up with if the international spy community discovered I like nipple play? It would be _hmmph_ ,” Money Maker found himself suddenly silenced by Dragon Turtle’s lips crushing against his. As they finally pulled apart for air, he looked her straight in the eye. “Have I ever told you you’re the best?”

*************************

The End. Sorry for that last bit of cheese.


End file.
